


Meme A Little Meme of Me

by timedork



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: But I was WRONG, fanzine prompt fill, i relate to ryan because i too am a slut for memes, i thought the pears fic would be the daftest thing i'd write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timedork/pseuds/timedork
Summary: For the thirteenfanzine prompt: memes.





	Meme A Little Meme of Me

It was funny, Ryan thought, how once you’d noticed a person’s particular quirk, it was almost impossible to un-notice it. And alright, the Doctor herself was basically a dozen quirks in a rainbow t-shirt, but this one in particular stood out to Ryan, because it reminded him an awful lot of one specific internet meme and well, he was a Gen Z kid okay, he gave too much attention to these sorts of things.

But the Doctor had a tendency, usually in moments of awkwardness, to set her mouth so that her lips were pressed together in a straight line, like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to smile or grimace and instead tried—and failed—to do both at once.

It was the sort of face white people made at Ryan a lot.

A knock on the window drew Ryan’s attention away from his phone, where he’d idly been scrolling through Twitter and—speak of the Devil, there was the Doctor peering at him through the glass, nose and palms flat against the pane as she grinned widely at him.

Seconds later the bell rung, so Ryan got up and answered the front door to find a slightly apologetic looking Yaz standing on the doorstep. The Doctor bounced over from the window, bringing with her the faint smell of burnt toast. Ryan gave the Doctor a long appraising look, taking in the soot smudging her face and the singed edges of her hair and coat sleeves.

“I was trying to fix the Psycho-Telemeter but the TARDIS weren’t having it,” she answered his unasked question, shrugging.

Ryan could see where this was going, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Let me guess—she threw a wobbler and locked you out.”

“Bingo!” The Doctor looked, bafflingly, delighted.

“Usually she’d just stay with me til the TARDIS sorted herself out,” Yaz piped up and yep, Ryan’s suspicions had been correct. “But one of my uncles and his kids are visiting for the week, so there’s no room.”

“No tea at Yaz’s this time,” the Doctor muttered, scuffing the toe of her boot on the ground and looking sulky. “I was so looking forward to tea at Yaz’s...”

“So you thought you’d ask if she could stay here,” Ryan surmised.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Yaz wrung her hands together.

Ryan thought back to the last time the Doctor had crashed at his place, just after they’d met, and how she’d dismantled the television, eaten most of the food in the kitchen, and left him burning with embarrassment by walking around without a top on. He loved her, but he couldn’t go through that again. _No_ was hanging on the tip of his tongue.

But Yaz was looking at him with pleading Disney eyes, while the Doctor was making _that_ face at him again, and he felt his resolve waver. After all, it wasn’t like she had anywhere else she could go, was it?

“Okay,” Ryan sighed. “But only because she looks very polite.”


End file.
